


Bad Values

by ChuckTingle



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, C-137, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Incest, M/M, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24151327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChuckTingle/pseuds/ChuckTingle
Summary: After pondering his morals and deciding he has none, you'llneverguess what happens. Rick molests Morty in this one, broe.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 13
Kudos: 137
Collections: Banned Banned Together Bingo 2020, Banned Together Bingo 2020





	Bad Values

It had been boiling in his head for months. An unwatched pot, bubbling and bubbling until the last of the water evaporated, and he was left with only this thought: the thought of his grandson, Morty. A boundless treasure trove of opportunity was waiting for him, if only he would make the move. Rick tinkered as he thought, fiddling with a cube-shaped device he’d been prototyping. It was nothing revolutionary, but it was something to keep his mind occupied. When he wasn’t out on some kind of harrowing adventure, he was here in his garage, inventing technology like a child builds with blocks. It was idle work, though, and no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he was thinking. He never stopped thinking.

Morty. He was thinking about Morty. What else was there to think of, really, that he hadn’t already thought of? He’d been around the universe, no, universes, and done just about everyone and everything. After every sexual encounter he had, it felt harder and harder to get off. In fact, he wasn’t sure when the last time had been; when was the last time anything had been able to do it for him? It might have been Unity… but how long ago was that? Everything seemed boring now. Almost everything.

There were very few thoughts that Rick Sanchez felt were twisted enough to avoid considering. His sins ran deep and his hands were bloody, yet this… this was Morty. He’d had thoughts of Summer, sure, and of Beth, even… but this was different. He was Rick, and this was Morty.

He thought of the Citadel Ricks, hordes of them that he detested. There were dozens of Ricks who openly debased themselves in romantic engagements with their Morties, Ricks that married their Morties, even had families with them. It made him sick, but why? They were all him, so why was he so loathe to be them? He knew the answer: he was the best Rick. He was the Rickest Rick to ever exist, and they all knew it.

His Morty, however, was the Mortiest of Morties. He was dumb, obedient, and moldable, all to the highest levels possible. If he made the decision to get what he wanted, it would be his. That was the way of the Ricks. They never lose, ever. If Rick decided to play, he would need to be comfortable in the knowledge that he would win. There would be no turning back.

He sighed and put down his screwdriver, staring absently into a pile of junk. What point was there in philosophizing about it? He knew, at his core, he was the most terrible human being to ever exist. What was stopping him from sinking to this new low? Nothing had ever stopped him before. His lenient morals were hardly keeping him back, even now. He was the closest he had ever been to doing it. It would be so easy.

“Too easy…” Rick muttered, then turned around as though he’d been heard, but the door to the garage was still closed. In fact, no one was around. Beth was at work, Summer and Morty were at school. Jerry was… well, who cared. Rick couldn’t get the thoughts of Morty out of his head, and, fuck it, why should he even bother trying? He turned back towards his work-in-progress box and kept fiddling. He imagined Morty’s eyes, confused, but willing. Morty’s lips, open and nervous. Morty’s neck. Morty’s chest. 

Morty.

Then, Rick realized he was holding a functional device in his hands. Speaking of too easy, it hadn’t even taken him half an hour. A large round button protruded from the top, and he regarded it for some time. This button could do almost anything within reason, but right now, he knew what it would mean if he pushed it. His mind was made up. Right?

Rick closed his eyes, sighed, and hit the button.

“I’m Mr. Meeseeks! Look at me!”

“Mr. Meeseeks…. Bring me Morty.”

“Can do!” The newly manifested life form that had spawned from his box left the room in a hurry.

“Jeez, it’s like his death depends on it,” Rick said out loud. He chuckled at his own joke and realized he was now ready. Like anything bad he did, he relinquished all guilt before the deed was even done. That was the only way to cope… well, one of two ways. In preparation for his next big misdeed, Rick fished a half-empty flask of Snorlabian gin off the floor, where he guessed he must have dropped it, and took a deep swig. The liquor rushed to his head and he sighed, content. This was it. Maybe this would do it.

A few sips later, the door to the garage swung open and Mr. Meeseeks returned, flinging Morty into the room and saluting Rick. It said, “Here ya go!” before disappearing into thin air, having completed its purpose. Morty blinked, wide-eyed, and pointed at the space where the Meeseeks had been moments before.

“Uh… Rick? What was that?”

“Don’t worry about it Morty, it’s not important.” Rick waved the hand with the liquor bottle in it dismissively, spilling some on himself. “What’s important is that you come with me. We’ve got something to take care of.”

“But Rick–”

“Don’t think about it Morty.” Rick downed the rest of the flask and threw it on the floor.

“I was in the middle of a test!”

Rick wobbled, but managed to stand up. “Sh- Sh- Shut up Morty. Just come on.”

He opened the trap door on the floor of his workshop, and entered his underground laboratory. Sighing, but resigned as always to following along with Rick’s wild whims, Morty climbed in behind him. The trapdoor shut, and they were alone in the lab, illuminated only by the various sources of glowing light. Rick looked around. Years of work. Billions of equations. All of that had never managed to bring him happiness. He looked at his grandson, who was confused as ever, wondering the purpose of their mission. This time, he was the mission. Rick knew that even this couldn’t make him happy.

Still, he would try.

“Rick… why are you staring at me?”

Rick squinted. “I- I’m thinking, Morty. Shut up Morty.”

“I thought you said this was important!”

“Nothing is important. Nothing matters. Are you dumb? Have you learned nothing?”

Morty fell silent and Rick analyzed him for a moment. God, he really was something special, wasn’t he? What was it about the stupidest, lamest, most helpless young teenager he had ever met that made him… love him? Morty was his fatal flaw. It was un-Ricklike of him to admit, but it was true. That, if nothing else, is what separated him from the Citadel Ricks. His Morty was more than just a tool. He was his grandson.

But, he was still a tool.

He released the tension that had built up in his jaw, unclenching his teeth. He slowly walked up to Morty and put his hands on his shoulders. Morty looked up, utterly clueless, at Rick’s drunken, glazed eyes, and that slight tilt of a smile. Still, he said nothing.

“You know what, Morty? There’s more to life than adventures and girls. You ever thought about that? You ever thought about anything?”

“Uh… no, not really.” Morty said, looking to the side and scratching his temple. “Why bother? Those are the only things that make me happy.”

Rick scoffed, squeezing his shoulders and leaning in close. Morty closed his eyes and grimaced at the stench of booze on his breath. “Happy? You think you can be happy? You’re an idiot, Morty. You’re my grandson. You can’t be happy.”

Morty sighed. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“I’m always right, Morty. I’m the rightest guy in the–” He belched. “–fucking universe, Morty. I’m the rightest guy in every universe.”

He slid his hands down from Morty’s shoulders to his upper arms, then removed them.

“Morty lift your arms. I gotta check something.” He burped on the word “gotta” and snapped his fingers.

“Uh.”

“Do it, Morty.”

Morty did it, and Rick coolly examined his torso for a few moments, eventually sliding his hands under Morty’s shirt. Morty lept back and pulled his shirt down, breathing heavily and flashing Rick wide, terrified eyes.

“Rick, what the fuck!” Morty screamed, crossing his arms over his chest. “What the– what the fuck are you doing?”

“Whatever I want, Morty. As always.” Rick said, burped, and approached him with his smile replaced with a scowl. “You’re really going to try and fight this, Morty? You really think you stand a chance?”

“Y- You’re drunk.” Morty said, shaking his head. “You don’t know what the hell you’re thinking. C- Come on, Rick, just open the trapdoor and let me–”

“You listen,” Rick said, cornering him against the laboratory wall, “and you listen good. You’re criminally stupid to have ever believed this wasn’t inevitable. What, you think I bring you on adventures because I like you? That I drag my fourteen year-old grandson through universes for any reason other than my own sexual gain? Idiotic. When will you learn?”

“R- Rick–” Morty gasped, but Rick shushed him like a child, cupping his cheeks in his left hand. He stared into Morty’s eyes and watched as tears pooled up in them. It was just like in his fantasies, yet he felt nothing. As always, it was just too easy. Frustrated, he sighed and kicked the ground at Morty’s feet, who stumbled and almost fell, but Rick caught him in his arms and dipped him like a dancer. It felt good to feel him in his hands like this. Rick blinked. It felt good.

“How do you even know you won’t like it, Morty? I’ve–” Another burp. “–seen you jerking off to those weird interdimensional porn magazines. You fucked a baby-making robot for fuck’s sake, Morty. And you think this is any weirder?”

“It’s a ton weirder, Rick!” Morty yelled, finding the guts to glare and retort. “You’re my fucking grandpa!”

“Yeah, yeah, a minor technicality.” Rick muttered, lifting Morty out of the dip and spinning him out, chuckling at his confused, fearful gasps. He pulled him back immediately and took both his arms again, this time, holding they firmly at Morty’s sides. Morty gulped and looked Rick in the eyes. Eyes that had met many times before, and in some ways, Rick was right. This wasn’t any different.

“Listen, Rick,” Morty started, treating this as if it were any other argument between them, “Why don’t you g- get another Morty, from this Citadel you always talk about, or whatever? Why does it have to be me?”

Rick rolled his eyes and groaned. “I really have to spell everything out for you, don’t I? You’re my Morty, Morty. Mine. All mine.”

At that, Rick kissed him, and Morty closed his eyes and tried to pull away, but Rick was still holding his arms tight, and he groaned. Rick sighed.

“Come on, Morty. Kiss me back. Just do me this one favor.”

“Favor?” Morty cried, starting to tremble in Rick’s grip. “T- This is no favor, Rick, this is–”

“Just do it. God!”

Rick kissed him again, harder this time, and against the wills of every bone in his body, Morty reciprocated. It was an awkward, clunky mashing of lips and tongues, but Rick liked that. It was the awkwardness that made it Morty. Rick pulled away, and he could feel the tension in Morty’s body relax somewhat in his hands. He let go of Morty’s arms, but he didn’t move away. 

“I don’t… know why you’re doing this, Rick.” Morty whimpered, casting his gaze downward and rubbing his arms where Rick had gripped them. “You’ve got entire universes at your disposal! I thought Morties were just, these stupid, disposable things to Ricks, and–”

“Entire universes do nothing for me, Morty. But you...” Rick pulled aside his lab coat and gestured to the tent in his pants. “You did something, alright.”

Morty looked, then immediately shielded his eyes. “Aw, jeez, Rick! What the hell?”

“Come here, Morty. Just come here.” Rick unzipped his pants and put on that same twisted smile as before. “It’s alright, okay? I know you’re scared, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. Okay? I’ll always protect you, Morty. You know that. When have I ever let you down, Morty? Just come over here and touch it, Morty. Just for a second.”

After a moment of staring at the ground, Morty wordlessly walked up to Rick and put out his hand like a misbehaved child, waiting for it to get smacked with a ruler. Instead, Rick adjusted himself into Morty’s hand, moaning softly.

“That’s the stuff, Morty. See? It’s not that bad, is it?”

“Sure, Rick.” Morty sighed.

“You know, Morty, I haven’t been hard like this in years,” Rick said, allowing Morty to remove his hand, only to start removing the boy’s shirt. Morty stood limply as he did so, and listened, like always, to his rambling. “I had this old lover, Unity… man, it really got me going. No one else ever could. But you’re up there, Morty, you’re special.”

Shirtless now, Morty looked up at Rick and shrugged. Rick always made him feel anything but special.

“Morty?”

“Yeah, Rick?”

“You’re alright.”

Morty sighed. “Thanks, Rick. Now, can we get whatever this is over with?”

“Oh, no no no, Morty,” Rick said, pulling Morty into a hug and pressing his crotch against his. With his head on the boy’s shoulder, he murmured in his ear, “You’re gonna love this, Morty. You’re gonna live for this because there’s nothing else to live for, Morty. You hear me? I’m your world, Morty. Be my world.”

Rick released him and stretched out his arms, yawning. “Now get on your knees before I get bored. Trust me, Morty, sucking dick is more fun than it sounds. Don’t knock it till you try it.”

So, just as he’d intended, all according to plan, Morty knelt down before Rick and did exactly what he’d asked. Rick lost himself in the feeling, for once, not thinking about anything but what was right here in front of him. This perfectly twisted thing he’d finally opened the door to. Morty’s soft lips around his hard cock… it was a strange world, but he’d seen stranger ones.

“Harder, Morty. We don’t have all day.”

Rick thrust himself into Morty’s throat, and surprisingly, Morty soldiered on, hardly flinching. In the most abstract of ways, Rick was proud of himself for that. He was the reason Morty had even the slightest speck of resolve after all. Or, it was just that he was a snivelling mess of a grandson, and he knew nothing but obedience and conformist thought.

Upon looking at him, the latter was more likely the answer. After some time, Rick could feel himself getting close. A feeling he hadn’t had in a long time, and he welcomed it gladly. He basked in it and stroked Morty’s hair.

“A- Alright Morty, I’m gonna come,” Rick warned. “Be ready. Shit might get messy.”

Soon enough, he did, and Rick was bathed in a feeling of artificial euphoria, one he knew well, but had not found in ages. The closest thing he would ever know to happiness. He reveled in it.

Then, it was gone.

Morty was on all fours in front of him, panting, and drooling on the ground… was it drool? Rick realized that Morty actually swallowed. He stifled a laugh. How pathetic. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised.

“Nice job, Morty. You’re good for something, huh? Huh? How do you feel?”

Dazed and confused, Morty looked up at Rick incredulously. “I feel like shit, Rick. What the fuck do you think?”

Rick shrugged, burped, and yawned. “Well, we’ll work on it. Anyway. You can go back to school now, if you care. I’ll let you know if my phone rings and adventure’s on the line.” He walked over to the side wall and pressed a button. He held out his hand and a bottle appeared in it. He popped it open and began to drink. And drink. And drink.

Morty got up off the ground, cleaned himself up, and without saying anything further to Rick, got dressed and left. For the briefest instant, Rick wondered if he’d made the wrong decision, but the bottle in his hand kept emptying itself somehow, and eventually, he forgot he’d done anything at all.

**Author's Note:**

> touch my rickle dick, morty. come on morty. touch my rickle dick
> 
> funniest shit ive ever seen


End file.
